Interview with the Death Eater
by Enchanted Ivy
Summary: A story is told. Two unlikely listeners find that Severus Snape was not always the man he is today.
1. Chapter 1

INTERVIEW WITH THE DEATH EATER

"I always knew I would get my revenge." The man smirked. "And I did. Ha. Ha."

"Tell us your account of what happened," said Fudge, his nostrils flaring with distaste as he looked at the man. "Of course nothing will save you from your fate, as we have several eyewitnesses who are willing to testify before the Wizengamot. However, everything must be followed according to proper procedure –"

"Yes, Minister," the man interjected, "You were always one to follow procedure…"

Fudge glared at the man. "Yes, well…as I was saying, Rita here – " he indicated the blond reporter hovering eagerly in the corner of the cell "will get down every word you say and put it all in the Daily Prophet." The man raised an eyebrow.

"Why on earth would you allow me to explain in the Daily Prophet?" Fudge crossed his arms, rather impatiently, it seemed, and glared at the man.

"It is part of the deal I have negotiated with Dumbledore. You get to tell your story, get to say anything you want to get off of your chest – and we get to kill you. We wanted to just kill you and be done with it, but Dumbledore – ah – persuaded us, shall I say."

"Yes, sounds like something Dumbledore would do," the man said and began to giggle. "Dumbledore. Heehee. What a funny name. Bumblesnore, heehee. Funny, funny." Fudge scraped his chair away a few inches.

"You've gone barmy," he said, looking at him doubtfully. The man smirked again, and one couldn't help noticing that the expression seemed a natural one to his face.

"I apologize. I will try to keep my insanity to a minimum for the duration of this interview. Will that suffice, Minister?" He made a mocking little half-bow to Fudge, who looked a bit disconcerted. Fudge nodded shortly.

"Rita?" he called over his shoulder. Rita Skeeter bounded from her seat excitedly, and stuck out a mannish hand to the man. Instead of taking it, he merely stared at it for a minute, then looked down.

"Alligator lady." He acknowledged respectfully. Rita's thickly manicured eyebrows shot up rapidly. "Why, I never!" she said, sounding outraged.

"Well, now you have," the man smiled slightly. "On to other matters. I would like to tell my story now, Minister, if you would allow…?"

"Get on with it," Fudge snarled.

The man began to tell his tale.


	2. Chapter 2

It all started on the day of my first train ride to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I was ten years old, having been accepted earlier than most for my intelligence and skill in Potions and Dark Arts. I had always been an ugly child, with sallow skin and a too-prominent nose. But it had never mattered to me. I was too obsessed with learning, with reading every book I could get my hands on. And I was so naïve. I honestly thought that Hogwarts would be just like home; I would be able to continue my studies with no distraction. I never thought about the social aspect of going to a boarding school. I never thought of the other children, and how they would view me, how they would judge me without even getting to know me.

I had boarded the train, found an empty compartment, and settled down with (name of book), one of my favorites at the time. I was engrossed as usual. That was when the compartment door busted open, and my life was changed forever. In walked a group of boys. One was tall, with black messy hair and bright hazel eyes. Another had dark brown hair and gray eyes, and the last boy was short and rather fat, and wore a timid expression on his face.

"Hey," said the one with black messy hair, "I'm James Potter, who are you?" I looked up from my book briefly. "Severus Snape," I said quietly, then returned to my reading. Potter wrinkled his nose. "I've never heard that surname." "Mmmm," I replied, eyes still on my book. "This is Sirius Black, and this," he indicated the fat boy "is Peter. Peter Pettigrew." This time I looked up.

"Sirius Black? My mum and yours are friends, I think." He frowned, then looked at James. "Oh," was all he could say.

I raised an eyebrow. I didn't understand why he'd reacted that way. Not then, at any rate. But I would understand later, in years to come, that he hated his family and anything connected to them in any way.

"So…what are you reading?" inquired Potter. I turned the book towards him so that he could see the title. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh," he said. "Well, what House are you going for?"

"Slytherin, naturally. They're the best house of all of them." I answered calmly.

"Slytherin? But they're evil! Grindelwald was a Slytherin! Why would you ever want to be in that House…" Pettigrew trailed off as Black elbowed him in the ribs.

"It's what my parents would want, I suppose." Was it my imagination, or did Black's eyes suddenly fill with empathy? It didn't matter to me. I went back to my book. "If you wouldn't mind, I want to read."

Black nodded. "It's fine, Snape. We understand," he said firmly, ushering Pettigrew and Potter out of the compartment. "See you around," he called as he closed the door. Left alone, I put down my book and pondered over what had happened. I didn't think I cared for Pettigrew or that Potter, but Black was all right. I hoped he would be Sorted into Slytherin, where I knew I was going. My parents had firmly drilled the necessity of being Sorted there for a week before my coming. I didn't mind; Slytherin was said to be a House of ambition and cunning, and I had quite a bit of both.

I was staring at the wall, thinking things over, when the compartment door opened again. I looked up, expecting the cart lady, but instead found myself staring into a pair of the most gorgeous green eyes I had ever beheld. After a moment, I realized that the eyes were attached to a rather attractive face, and that the face was attached to a tall, slender body.

"Hi," the girl said. "I'm Lily Evans, mind if I sit here?" I managed to stop staring at her long enough to stutter, "S-sure. I'm S-Severus Snape, by the way."

"Nice to meet you Severus," she smiled. She took a seat across from me. I couldn't stop looking at her blood red, wavy hair. Everything about her seemed perfect. I know it's a cliché, but it was love at first sight – for me, at least.

"I'm so nervous!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide as she looked at me.

"Why would you be nervous? It's just Hogwarts, after all. Surely you've known for a long time that you'd be coming here eventually."

She shook her head rapidly. "I didn't, actually. I'm Muggle-born, and I didn't know that the wizarding world existed, let alone that it had a school, until my letter came."

No doubt I had turned pale, as she was looking at me puzzledly, one eyebrow raised. "Is something wrong, Severus?"

I couldn't speak; I was in too deep a shock. This was one of the Mudbloods my father had warned me about since I was a child? This beautiful girl? No, it wasn't possible; Father had told me that Mudbloods and Muggles were all filthy, selfish, unnatural creatures, which this girl, Lily was obviously not.

"You're – you're Muggle-born?" I asked again.

"Yes, is that something unusual around here? I bet it is – are you sure there's nothing wrong, you're pale as a ghost!"

"No, it's – I'm fine. So what house do you want to be Sorted into?"

"Um," she said nervously, twisting a lock of red hair around her finger, "I'm not really sure. I don't know anything about the four houses, so I'm afraid I'm rather lost."

"Well, I'll explain it to you if you want. The four houses are Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Hufflepuff is the house for the complete dullards, the really 'loyal' ones; they'll believe anything at all. Ravenclaw is a pretty good House, it's for all the intellects. Slytherin is the best out of the four and the one I'm going for; it's good for those who are cunning and have a lot of ambition. I'd leave if they put me in Gryffindor. It's really where all the brave, show-offy fools are put – "

"I'll try not to get put in Gryffindor, then," she interrupted, smiling at me. My heart leapt. "Well, Slytherin and Ravenclaw sound best out of the four."

"Well, you couldn't get into Slytherin," I blurted without thinking. "Why not? I have plenty of cunning and ambition, thank you very much." I shook my head. "What? Don't believe me? Well I'll have you know, Severus Snape, that – "

"It's not because of that. It's because you're a Mud – Muggleborn." I said, slightly embarrassed at having to be the one to tell her this.

"What?"

"Well, Slytherin doesn't accept M-Muggleborns…If you had one wizarding parent, or even a grandparent, you'd qualify…"

"Oh…why won't they let people like me in?"

"You have to have pure wizarding blood," I said quietly.

"Well, that's ridiculous!" She exclaimed angrily.

I raised an eyebrow. "I guess so," I acknowledged. I'd never thought about it all from the perspective of a Mud-Muggleborn; this was all entirely new to me. I'd only just met the girl and already she was changing my perspective, the way I thought.


	3. Chapter 3

Fudge was captivated by the tale, no matter how reluctantly. "So…you were friends with Lily Potter? And you didn't hate James Potter on sight?"

The man smirked. "Of course I didn't. Why would I hate someone for no reason? Not logical, is it?"

"So what was the reason?" Rita Skeeter asked, all the while making busy little notes on a piece of parchment.

"Let me ask you this…have you ever heard the expression 'All's fair in love and war?'"

Fudge nodded, and Rita said impatiently, "Of course. But what does that have to do with – "

The man cast his eyes downward thoughtfully. "Well, that's how it all started. James Potter and I each discovered that we were madly in love with Lily Evans, and she would have nothing to do with either of us romantically, as time went by…"

As you all know, I was sorted into the Noble House of Slytherin. Potter, Black, and Lily, beautiful Lily were sorted into Gryffindor, which came as no surprise to me. I had felt an irrational longing that Black be Sorted into my house, but that didn't come to pass, obviously. And I understood him, strangely enough. I understood his feelings towards his family and the Dark Arts, and anything tainted with the Dark. I understood why he had felt it necessary to become a Gryffindor, to become a part of a new world. I felt as though Black could have been me, had he made different decisions at certain points in his life.

I kept to myself as usual; I was immensely absorbed in schoolwork and my own reading. The library was my realm, I knew every cobwebbed corner, every hidden reading nook. I had no friends; when those in my House came to me, I turned them away firmly. I wanted to be alone.

And somehow, two years passed by in this fashion. Study, study, study, think of Lily, study, eat, think of Lily, sleep. This was my existence.

Potions in those days was taught by one Professor Slughorn, a former Slytherin who thought he possessed a great deal more intelligence than he did in reality. I hated him as he hated me, of course. Smug bastard, always favoring the Gryffindors over us for some reason. This was made obvious to the entirety of Slytherin, as Double Potions has always been Slytherin/Gryffindor. It was always, "Excellent, Potter, 10 points to Gryffindor," for a horribly incomplete answer, while when I gave a perfect textbook solution, I got a hard glare and a stiff nod.

One day in Potions stands out in my memory clearly. It was the day I felt truly alive for the first time in my life. We were making Polyjuice Potion, I believe. Lily and I were partners. By then she'd learned that all she'd get out of me while my fellow Slytherins were around was cheap verbal abuse and glares. We were cleaning up, and she handed me a piece of folded parchment before walking away. My forehead creased in puzzlement, I walked into the hallway and unfolded the note. It read simply, in flowery feminine handwriting, "Meet me by the lake at midnight. – L.E."

I'll confess that my heart stopped. Lily wanted to talk to me? Perhaps she saw through my insults, saw that the walls I'd built around myself were for protection, not spite or arrogance, saw that I worshipped her as a goddess? I was so happy, and of course I planned to go. But then, a part of me said slyly, "Wait, Severus. This could be a trap, a trick. Maybe Potter…" I waved the voice away. It didn't matter. If there was a chance that Lily loved me, hell, even liked me, I would be there, wouldn't I? Oh, this was wonderful, this was –

"Snape." I looked up to see a tall blond-haired boy in green robes smiling at me insincerely. I racked my brains, seeing the prefect button on his collar. I had an excellent memory and rarely forgot a name. Hmm…ah. "Lucius Malfoy," I nodded at him. He raised an eyebrow.

"That's right," he acknowledged, sounding slightly surprised, "I'm Lucius Malfoy. 6th year prefect," he added, thrusting his chest out proudly. "Pleased to meet you," I said tonelessly. I'd heard many things about Lucius Malfoy, none of them good.

"I'm acquainted with your parents," Lucius said quietly.

"Yes," I said, "I know."

"Ah. Well, the thing is – this is a bit awkward, Snape, but some of the boys feel that – you aren't a true Slytherin. Something about consorting with that Mudblood girl…Evans I believe her name was?"

Drops of sweat were standing out on my forehead. I wiped them away nervously. If Lucius had said anything to my parents – "Whoever told you that?" I asked disinterestedly. "I'll make sure they know exactly how pleased I am with them."

Lucius smiled coldly. "Then it's not true?"

"Of course not. Why would I consort with a creature of such filthy blood, so beneath me?"

Lucius' face broke into a true smile. "I'm pleased to hear it, Severus…may I call you Severus?"

"Sure," I said, quite relieved that he'd believed me.

"Well, tonight, as I'm sure you know, is the celebration of the birth of Salazar Slytherin. We're having a bit of a party in the common room tonight. You'll come, won't you?"

There was an unmistakable challenge in his question. Are you with us, or against us? He was asking.

"Of course. What time?"

"Midnight."

My face went pale, I'm sure. "Mid – midnight?" I repeated.

The cold look returned to Lucius' face. "It's tradition, Severus. You don't seem like one to break with tradition…unless you have a previous engagement?"

I was sweating again. Did Lucius know?

"N-no, I'll be there."

"Very well. I'll be expecting you," he turned to leave. "Oh, and Severus?"

"Yes?"

"You really ought to go to Madam Pomfrey. You're sweating like a pig." And he was off, leaving me heartbroken. And extremely sweaty.


End file.
